My father-in-law Herb has called me almost every week for the last three years. We've also spent time together supporting John's scholarship, tackling some beautiful western Virginia hikes, and have even braved time on the river together. From the moment John was gone, Herb has checked on me month after month and made himself available to me whenever I needed him. My father in law has done this for me, regardless of his own pain and the weight he must carry daily. I always admired the relationship John had with his dad and the many commonalities between the two. Sometime’s being around the two at the same time felt like seeing what was probably a past version of Herb and a future version of John. Both almost identical when it came to appearance, mannerisms, and love for the outdoors. I looked forward to the thought of John becoming more and more like his dad into older age. I pictured a more mellow version of John, where a simple hike, and the glimpse of a beautiful water fall may one day be enough for him to feel satisfied.
Two days after John’s death, Herb found me one evening in our back yard in Oregon alone and completely frozen as I clung to the still wet kayak gear hanging on the clothes line. He walked up to me, put his arm around me and asked me to promise him that I would never stay in this moment, in this chapter for too long. He asked me to promise him that I wouldn’t carry this burden of widowhood for the rest of my life and that I would move forward, and try and find happiness again. He said that his hope for me was that I would find love again, and the thought of me staying in this moment was something he could not bare. I remember the mere thought of that at the time felt like a foreign language. I could not imagine or even grasp the vision of someone else at the time, so I just planted my head into Herb’s chest and cried.
It has been three years since Herb and I had that foggy conversation in my Oregon back yard. He has continued to call almost every week, and each time I have felt just a little bit better. Herb is one of the few people in my life that truly understand and live in a reality with me where we never "move on," we simply try and move forward. We carry the loss and the homesickness for John together in different forms, but I think we both have tried and have even encouraged each other silently over the years to find joy again, for what other choice is there.
Last week, Tristan Borgeson asked me to be his wife. I came home from a long day of work to a handsome man, a wonderful meal, flowers, and a beautiful stainless steel wedding ring that Tristan made himself from a bike that belonged to my husband John. I was so overwhelmed by this incredible gesture, I just sunk into his chest in our kitchen and cried.
It's amazing how something so wonderful, like when a man ask you to marry him, can bring such excitement and joy, yet also a sharp pain in your chest. I felt as if I was feeling pure excitement and giddy love, yet a sense of loss and chaos simultaneously.
Tristan has poured nothing but selfless love into me for the last 18 months, why could I not just feel pure happiness towards the fact that I am going to be someones wife again? Why did my happiness have to be shared with a sense of pain? I felt somewhat robbed by this experience, for it was different than what I had imagined it would feel like. These new feelings seemed to lead to guilt, and even anger at myself. Days later, I even felt angry at John, frustrated by my conflicting pain and joy.
I stopped referring to myself as a widow a little over a year ago. I hated the sound of it, and the reactions people would give me, as if the kid gloves needed to immediately come on the moment "widow" was placed beside my name. I started checking "single" again with all the various forms, I did not feel the need for the W title anymore. I loved being married when John was alive, and knew I wanted to experience it again with Tristan pretty quickly into our relationship. So why is it that when this moment came, I wasn't fully enamored with joy?
I think it is important to be transparent about the feelings that come with new love after abrupt loss, marriage after a lost marriage, because it is real. I've learned that it can be messy and challenging, it requires deep work and dedication from us both. It has required so much sacrifice from Tristan. I've basically asked him to forfeit his ego, and to never allow the fact that I was once a wife to someone else affect him in a way that hurts him or hurts us. He does it so seamlessly and with no resentment. I tell him I'm having a rough day, he tells me he loves me no matter what. I tell a story about John from the past, Tristan listens to me with full attention and laughs when I do. When I cry for John, Tristan hugs me. I don't know other men like this.
I look back over my 33 years on earth and can remember different moments throughout my life that have allowed spiritual growth and perseverance to come forward in ways that felt almost super natural to me at the time. I believe God gives us divine moments in order to touch us and help us grow in ways that would be impossible if we only knew our flesh and blood. I believe we are presented with different seasons in our lives that require us to act within that period of time in order to move into our next moment. I can look back to even the smallest moments when I first met my husband John, and can clearly see how those specific times were also leading me to my soon to be husband, Tristan. I don't believe these are coincidence, I believe each moment is connected and helping each of us accelerate into higher vibrations that bring us closer and closer to God.
So why the tug of war on my heart after such great news? When Tristan asked me to be his wife, I placed myself back into a previous season in my life that required a different action from me at the time. Being the widow of John Wilburn has been the most challenging spiritual walk of my life. It has presented a season in my life that has come with pain I did not know existed within the human body. That season demanded me to walk alone, find my voice, define who I am, and to share the experience with others. It has been a season of suffering yes, but also higher vibrations, a deeper sense of my personal spirituality, and most importantly, seeing just how big God is and what he can do in my life.
That season and that time, is not of now. When we place ourselves into our past moments, our past seasons, we so often miss out on what is happening right now. We feel things that are not of now, and risk missing out on what God wants for us in the present moment. I realized over this past week, that God isn't asking me to go back, he's asking me to step into this season right now, and allow myself to feel the joy and pure happiness that has been there all along. We don't move on, we move forward.
"Instead of your shame, you will have a double portion, and instead of humiliation they will shout for joy over their portion. Therefore they will possess a double portion in their land, and everlasting joy will be theirs." Isaiah 61:7
I read these words and I just feel so overwhelmed and in awe of where my life has taken me. As I sunk into Tristan's chest, I thought back to that Divine moment with my father-in law, and the words he said to me in the absolute fog of my grief. And here I was 3 years later, saying yes.
I have had the honor and pleasure of knowing two great men in my life that have loved me fiercely. I will always love my husband John and cherish the seasons I had with him, and I will always love my soon to be husband Tristan, and the chance to move forward with him, walk through new seasons with him,and to allow God to bring us into divine moments together.
